The Arkansaw traveler., 1887-10-01


 while I measured flour, soda, and spices. I had intended to heat the molasses only sufficient to melt the butter, but the stove was very hot, and was just half second too late. The mixture began to bubble just as I took hold of the basin to remove it, and in an instant it boiled over. Of course the butter took fire the mo- ment it touched the stove, the molas- ses puffed and swelled and poured over like an inexhaustible fountain, the top of the stove was covered with the seething, bubbling, steaming mass: down the sides, over the hearth and into the oven it flowed in copious streams, thick clouds of smoke and steam filled the room, while the sweet sickening odor ot the boiling molasses mingled with the disgusting aroma of burning grease. Before 1 succeeded in getting the pan off the stove, it seemed as if that half pint of molasses had swelled into gallon, with more yet to be heard from. Stella rushed to my aid and with knife and dustpan tried to scrape off the burning mass, while l tried to wash it off with a cloth and basin of water. At the first touch of the water there was a loud, quick snap, and a crack opened ill the framework of the stove, and the same moment the pork and beans, joining ill the hurly- burly, boiled over with rush, hissing and sputter- ing ill the midst of the burning molas- ses. Stella caught off the pot before it could do any further damage, while stood looking in dismay at the ruin had wrought. Dismissing all idea of washing it of, l followed Stella's ex- ample and scraped and rubbed vigor- ously at the sticky mass. After half an hour of our united efforts, we sue ceeded in removing the larger share of the filthy mixture, and I looked dolefully over my newly blacked stove in which had taken such pride The backing was stuck on tight enough now and no mistake, but the polish, alas was sadly lacking.
 Determined not to be cheated out of my gingerbread, even by such il woeful catastrophe, commenced anew, this time taking the precaution of using larger pan in which to heat my molasses and butter. Everything worked finely, and an hour later dis played proudly, to Stella, loaf of gingerbread which looked as light and smclled as delicious as if mother had made it. My success in this em- boldened me to try some quick bis cults. We were nearly out of bread, and father was very fond of mothers biscuits which, by the way, were an- other of her specialties. l found the recipe and after quite search for the baking powder, which seemed strange ly out of place, l succeeded ill getting a nice painful made. expected them to come out of the oven like puff balls for lightness, but to my great sur prise they looked flat and heavy, very little if any larger than when they went in. What could it mean?
 "You are sure you put in baking powder enough?" Stella asked, as we stood looking in dismay at the soggy mass.
 ''l used just the quantity the recipe said"
 l broke one open; it was heavy and clammy, with very peculiar alkaline odor.
 'l am sure l did all just according to the recipe, and don't see what ails them" l said, just ready to cry from disappointment and weariness.
 A jingle of bells and a sonorous ''whoa" came to our ears suddenly in the midst of our tribulations. We ran to the window, and-O, blessed sight the stage had stopped before the house and the driver was assisting mother to alight. Biscuits and gin gerbread and blackened stoves were forgotten for the moment in our pleas ure at her return.
 "Your Aunt Mary was more com fortable," she said, as we removed her wraps and seated her in the big arm chair before the fire, ''and knew you girls would be troubled to get along with tho work, so 1 thought l ought to come home. What kind of time have you had?"
 commenced with backing the stove and described my lack of suc- | cess.
 "Why didn't you put in just very little molasses? That makes it stick nicely"
 Well, think l put in molasses enough before got through" l said grimly, and then related my xperi- ence with the gingerbread Mother leaned back in her chair and laughed heartily, her plump sides shaking like a dish ot jelly as gave graphic de- scription of the overflow.
 But you shouldn't have heated the molasses at all. only the butter"
 "The book said so," said, p~oduc- ing it and looking up the recipe.